Climb the Sky
by LSquared80
Summary: Peggy, Ted and airplanes.


Climb the Sky  
By Laura

i.

Peggy asked for coffee but blanches at the first sip. It settles sourly in her stomach. She takes a deep breath to evade the nausea that's been tormenting her and glances at her suitcase propped near the door. She's been telling anyone who will listen about taking a plane to Virginia, so much so that Stan began their last phone conversation by saying, "Hey, did I hear right? You're going to Richmond? In a plane?"

Her excitement veered to nervousness when she packed the night before. The unknown began to outweigh the novelty of it all and now Peggy's hand trembles as she lights a cigarette. She closes her eyes and leans back in her chair.

"Still doing research?"

Peggy's eyes snap open. She sits straight and smiles at Ted. "I'm running out of time," she notes, pointing her cigarette at the clock on the wall.

Ted sits on the arm of the chair across from her desk. "You don't have to present anything to them. Drop a hint here and there. Whet their appetites," he says, "but this trip is more for you than it is the client. Don't be nervous."

She nods and stubs out the cigarette. "I'm not nervous about touring the plant."

He narrows his eyes. "Have you ever been on a plane, Peggy?"

She answers him by biting her bottom lip and wrinkling her nose.

Ted stands and circles around her desk. He pushes her ashtray to the side, clearing a spot to sit. Peggy angles her chair to face him. "I'm sorry I can't take you myself," he says.

"You fly?" Peggy asks.

He nods and sees the recognition brighten in her eyes.

"Of course," she says, thinking of the décor in his office.

Ted smiles and tells her, "It can be exhilarating. Be excited about it, Peggy. It's a mode of transportation that gives you a view of the world unlike any other."

"I _was_ excited. I guess I started to think about it too much."

He reaches out, his fingers briefly – reassuringly – curling over her shoulder. "That's the beauty of taking a plane. Unless you're the pilot you don't have to think about it at all."

"I don't know about that," she laughs.

Ted gets to his feet and heads toward the door. "Frank's waiting downstairs. Do you need help with your bags?"

"No," she says, standing and giving her desk a quick scan. She closes a folder and reshuffles some loose papers. "I'll be fine."

"You will be," Ted tells her. "I could talk to you about the science of flying and what the instruments do, Peggy, but I'll save that for another time. Just relax and enjoy the view."

ii.

The executives from Koss were willing to hear more ideas, but only if the agency could see them in Albany. Peggy was in the room when Ted excitedly told them, "I can fly there in the morning!" She smiles, recalling the way he put his hand over the receiver and mouthed, "You're going with me."

She arrives at the airport in White Plains almost an hour early. Peggy sits on a bench, holding her Koss file on her lap, drinking coffee from a thermos. She closes her eyes and pictures herself standing in front of a circular table talking about headphones. She repeats her proposed tagline out loud to test how it sounds. "Lend me your ears," Peggy whispers, and then again and again. She takes a deep breath and speaks louder and with passion, "Lend me your ears."

The sound of applause snaps her eyes open. She sees Ted holding Gleason's boards under one arm while he claps. "You're going to nail it, Peggy," Ted says.

Peggy blushes. She screws the cap on her thermos and stands up. "I'm excited."

"About the presentation or the flight?"

She laughs, following as he heads toward the hangar. "Both," Peggy tells him, and she stands at a distance while Ted loads the plane with their materials and her small bag. She is impressed by how deftly he maneuvers around the small airport and the plane itself, how he looks in his bomber jacket.

"Ready?" he asks, holding out his hand.

Peggy nods and reaches toward him, letting him curl his fingers tight around her hand. He helps her climb into the seat and reaches across her lap to help buckle her in.

Ted talks over the whir of the engine, explaining the instruments and describing what the ascent is going to feel like. Peggy listens intently, watching his hands operate the controls. He approaches flying the same way he does advertising and literature – with joy and enthusiasm.

"How are you doing over there?" Ted asks.

The plane seems to have leveled off. Peggy turns to the window and her stomach does a somersault. She swallows hard and the longer she drinks in the sight of the clouds – the longer she marvels at their proximity – the more at ease she feels. "It's different from a commercial flight," Peggy says. She touches the small window at her side. "It's beautiful up here."

"It is," Ted agrees.

Twenty minutes into the flight they hit a patch of turbulence. The plane jolts and Peggy instinctively reaches out, latching her hand onto Ted's thigh. "I'm sorry," she says but leaves her hand there.

He feels the light pierce of Peggy's nails through his pants. "It's okay," Ted tells her. "We'll settle down in… just… a minute." The air around them smoothes and Peggy slowly opens her eyes. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She shakes her head. Peggy notices Ted cast a quick glance down at her hand. She peels her fingers away. "No, it wasn't," she agrees. She folds her hands on her lap and turns her attention to the view, thinks how remarkable it is to soar through the clouds. How lucky she is to have the opportunity.

iii.

The airport's restroom smells musty and has no paper towels. Peggy shakes the water from her hands. She studies her reflection in the grimy mirror. She's sweaty from all the whiskey sours and from being crammed in the plane with Ted and Pete, a little nervous as the weather began to change.

Peggy can't stand the smell but she stays in the bathroom a long while. She keeps hearing Pete say _He's in love with you too. _She heaves a sigh and finally pushes the door open with her shoulder. She spots Ted standing outside the hangar and walks toward him, asking, "Where's Pete?"

"He got in a cab," Ted says.

Peggy rolls her eyes. "Great."

"He said he was afraid he was going to get sick. Didn't want you to have to see that," Ted explains. "I called for another."

"Thanks." She notices the hangar is closed up; the crew has departed for the night. It's quiet and dark.

A loud clap of thunder startles them both. Ted tilts his head back, peering up at the sky. He grabs Peggy's arm and leads her toward the small office attached to the hangar. They seek shelter under the office's shallow awning just as the clouds open and unleash a downpour of thick raindrops.

"That was close," Ted shouts over the noise of the rain pelting the tin roof. He is still holding onto Peggy's arm. His grip tightens when their eyes meet, both of them aware of the heat that radiates from that one point of contact. He slides his fingers down until they circle her wrist.

"Ted," she breathes his name into the air.

He closes his eyes. He feels the throb of her pulse against his thumb. Ted thinks they might as well be on the plane, the storm thrashing the aircraft while he fights furiously against the wind. It feels the same as standing close to Peggy, surrounded by the fierce rain, knowing how her blood quickens through her veins when he takes a step closer to her.

"I've tried," he says, enclosing her hand in both of his. He leans toward her when the glare of headlights slices over them.

Peggy winces and slips her hand out of his grip. "I should…"

Ted nods. He removes his coat and begins to lift it up over them both.

"I'll be fine," Peggy says, already running out into the rain, leaving him under the awning, holding his coat above his head.

iv.

On Christmas morning she stares at her lopsided tree and thinks about a trip to Hawaii that will never happen.

Peggy sees herself squeezed next to Ted in the cockpit of a plane he's chartered for the afternoon, her arm draped across his lap, the scenery reflecting in the lenses of his aviators.

They soar above volcanoes and lush greenery and tropical flora and sandy beaches and the endless ocean.

The sky is a crisp, bright shade of blue she's never seen before.

They aren't tan because they've spent most of the time in their suite.

Peggy opens her eyes and feels her stomach drop as the images from her fantasy become harder to hold onto. She notices an ornament on the floor, one the cat knocks off the lowest branch several times a day. She picks it up and carries it to the trash.

v.

The landing is bumpy and wakes Peggy from her already fitful sleep. She stretches her arms, mindful of her still dozing seatmate – a kindly older man who wore himself out talking about the appliances he sells.

"Welcome to Los Angeles," the captain's voice crackles through the plane.

Peggy sighs and taps her foot on the floor. She's antsy to stand, to stretch, to breathe fresh air.

She waits for the plane to empty before she departs. She walks down the narrow aisle and smiles at the stewardess ushering the passengers off the plane.

Peggy has heard a lot about California over the years from Don and Harry, and now Pete when he comes back to the Big Apple; she expects to see palm trees in the terminal. She walks into the crowd of people trying to find their way, dragging heavy luggage and whining children behind them.

She follows the signs and looks out the windows at the planes circling the runway and taking off toward the clear sky. Peggy retrieves her luggage and sees outside to where the line for taxi service is formed. It dawns on her that she's not sure where to go first – make an appearance at SC&P: West Coast and get it over with, or head to the hotel to freshen up.

"Peggy Olson."

Her feet skid on the slick floor. Peggy squares her shoulders. Her jaw tenses. Everything she promised herself – that she wouldn't cry, that there wouldn't be a tingle at the base of her spine that tickles all the down to her toes when he was in the same room, that she wouldn't dwell on the sound of his voice so close – falls to the wayside.

Peggy's hand sweats around the handle of her luggage and she drops it. She reaches up, wiping the back of her hand across her cheek. She turns around and fixes a smile on her lips. "Hello," she says.

Ted smiles. "How was your flight?"

"Fine," she barely speaks the word.

He points to her suitcase. "Is that your only bag?"

Peggy nods and reaches for it at the same time Ted bends forward to grab the handle. Their fingers brush and they both back away. The suitcase topples.

"I'll get it," Ted says.

She lets him pick it up and asks, "What are you doing here?"

"We were going to send a car."

"What are you doing here?" she asks again. They've had to talk on the phone, and the one time Ted visited New York Peggy made sure she took a rare personal day. She thought they had an unspoken agreement to avoid one another as much as possible.

He takes a deep breath. Peggy doesn't notice Ted take any steps but suddenly he seems so much closer. "I couldn't wait to see you," he admits.

Peggy shakes her head. "Don't. Don't say things like that." She extends her arm, wiggles her fingers. "I'll carry it. Give it to me."

He starts walking, ignoring her request. He glances over his shoulder to make sure she's following.

They walk in silence to the exit, across the long parking lot. Ted stops at a white Chevy convertible and loads Peggy's bag into the back. He opens the door for her and the two of them stand there, trying not to look at one another. A plane roars overhead and steals their attention, the two of them tilting their heads back to watch its ascent.

The sound grows distant. They both face forward, their eyes meeting. "You shouldn't have come," she says.

"I know."

"I'm not sure what you think is going to happen but I-"

Ted interrupts, "I'm going to drop you at the hotel. Or take you to the office. Whichever you prefer. I didn't want the first time we saw each other to be in front of Pete or Moira or anyone else."

Peggy looks away from him, back at the airport, at the people hustling to and from cars with luggage. She takes a deep breath and looks at the car, touching the clean, white exterior. "A convertible, huh?" Peggy says, making a face and touching her hair – unsure of the openness.

"Don't be nervous," Ted says. "Just relax and enjoy the view."


End file.
